693 pages, Paperback
First published January 1,1978
This is not an imitation, she thought. This is not the product of custom. This is the unique place, the unique air, where my children have spent the best of themselves. The realization that none of them had done well made her sink back in her chair. She squinted the tears out of her eyes. What had made the summer always an island, she thought? What had made it such a small island? What mistakes had they made? What had they done wrong? They had loved their neighbors, respected the force of modesty, and held honor above gain. Then where had they lost their competence, their freedom, their greatness? Why should these good and gentle people who surrounded her seem like the figures in a tragedy?Unrealized dreams, unfulfilled hopes, unsuccessful plans, and the rivers of sadness – all of these are indeed an integral part of our lives as well. We can all relate to the emotions and experiences described in Cheever's works, which makes them so powerful and engaging. His ability to capture the essence of human nature and the complexities of life is truly remarkable.
Try reading John Cheever all summer and working at a country club. That'll mess with you. John Cheever's works are known for their complex characters and deep exploration of human nature. Spending an entire summer immersed in his stories can have a profound impact on your perspective.
At the same time, working at a country club provides a unique social environment. You interact with a diverse range of people, from wealthy members to fellow employees. The combination of these two experiences can create a sense of disorientation or confusion.
On one hand, you are delving into the psychological depths of Cheever's characters, while on the other hand, you are dealing with the practicalities and social hierarchies of the country club. This contrast can make it difficult to reconcile your inner world with the external reality. It can mess with your sense of self and your understanding of the world around you.
Reading these stories means coming into contact with the inevitable awareness of the mystery of literature. One searches for something while in reality the last thing one desires is to reach it. This is why Cheever makes his phantoms speak through the pages, conscious of making them listen to the shadows of the reader, as if through a doubly spectral radio.
Nothing sounds as familiar as the light and cheerful apocalypses of his characters, their vital regrets and dark desires, the bonds and wars, the hypocritical projects, the liminal existences, and all the psychological geography of a society that is constantly being made and unmade, the same and different from the day before, the same and different in the wait for the last date, the only ineluctable sovereign of the most accurate and profound pages.
How many loves, how many paths, how many miracles and how much poetry in the true, dreaming and lucid humanity of this ancient book that travels towards us from a distant future. Maybe Cheever has given up on pursuing a truth: behind this renunciation, the conviction that every narration of the facts carries with it a trace of fiction that infinitely alters the plane of the real.
And then, only by constructing these fictions so true can one truly listen to someone and put into words, into discourse, the most genuine and corporeal substance that lies behind the thousand appearances of each human being. Investigating feelings, investigating love is a recursive and illusory task, it means moving away from one's goal while struggling to build it and so only telling and knowing can give rise to these solitary epiphanies, to these vertiginous revelations for which we will always be doubtfully happy to have concluded, for the moment, our experience as readers.
If when meeting yourselves, sometimes you want to discover something new, let the stories of Cheever be your curious master.